


tragedies of humanity (and morality)

by Hadzy



Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic)
Genre: "handsome paradox", Arsene Lupin- stan him, Be safe with your possesions, By now everyone knows that I have no self-control, F/M, I mean kid., Just because the AU won't fit, Kywi moments promised, Lauki... You'll have to wait and see, Lauren and Kieran are the only ones above 20, Murder at Uncle Tristan's castle/manor, Now. I'm done with the tags:), Potential Theft?! You never know-, Tricks, William Hawkes is just a busy man, Yep I made Will younger, bon apetit!, chapter count to change, disguises, it's more like a castle though haha, yeah.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:22:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28939197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadzy/pseuds/Hadzy
Summary: William Hawkes is the prodigy detective, who is still a highschooler, living a perfect life (okay, maybe not perfect, but satisfactory).But does he stand a chance against Ardhalis' mastermind criminal, the Purple Hyacinth?Or: A mysterious murder (with potential theft) has occured at the Sinclair Manor... but the culprit apparently has a few tricks up his sleeve...Or: An Arsene Lupin AU because I stan Arsene Lupin more than Sherlock Holmes
Relationships: Lauren Sinclair & Kieran White, William Hawkes/Kym Ladell
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	tragedies of humanity (and morality)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, there reader!
> 
> This is Hadzy-who-procastinates-too-much-but-also-has-impulse-issues-also-lacking-sleep here, screeching from good old home. 
> 
> Yeah. 
> 
> So, welcome to the _playground of braindead crap Hadzy creates™_ \- I'll take your coats (and scarfs). 
> 
> Ahahhaha let me get back to topic. 
> 
> This AU is based on the classical literature series Arsene Lupin, mainly book 4 of the series (snippets of book 6 are there). 
> 
> Those who know Arsene Lupin, great, but let me give you a recap to those who don't: 
> 
> **Arsene Lupin is a french gentleman criminal, who steals for the good, supports the poor, and never kills, no matter what situation.**
> 
> So please, refrain yourself from yeeting me, saying that even even in this AU, Kieran has the name of the Purple Hyacinth. There is a reason why I made Kieran play this role. 
> 
> Now, let's stop with my long talk and get into the story. 
> 
> Enjoy <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Patter, patter, patter..._
> 
> _"Look," Kym gasped, pointing out the window._
> 
> _"What are they carrying?"_

Lauren Sinclair had always been awake at the most peculiar times.

She was a beautiful girl, really- bright red hair, golden eyes, and the palest skin; she could appear as a _une reine_ to some if she donned her best gown at social gatherings. They say that she took after her mother and father, even though they were now gone and mostly forgotten. 

_Who would think that she would be awake for most of the night, being haunted by the ghosts of her past?_

No one would, of course. 

Sometimes, she sat at the empty dining table, looking over the long table, thinking about how silent it was, and other days, she would be lying on her bed upright, sipping on a cup of water from the pitcher by her bedside. She would hum softly a forgotten tune, occasionally grabbing a lamp so she could read a book, carefully though, to prevent her half-sister Kym from waking up in the room from next door.

And so, perhaps her strange sleep habits were the reason why she was able to experience something interesting, no life-changing, that night.

That fateful night, she was tucked in her huge bed, yellow blanket tightly wrapped around her, turning pages of the old book (she had happened to find a copy of “The Secret Garden” in her old box in the attic- very, very, nostalgic) in her hands, golden pensive eyes scanning through words when she heard footsteps.

_Footsteps. At night. In the manor, with five floors where everyone is asleep. It can never be good news._

She frowns, eyebrows furrowing in concentration to find where the footsteps were coming from. She froze, and chills ran up her spine. 

_The footsteps were coming from beneath her- somebody was downstairs, in the second-floor guest chamber._

Silently as possible, she slipped on her pair of slippers, cursing at how old the house is when the floor creaks underneath her weight as she rushed toward the window, peering into the huge garden in the estate.

The garden was home to broken pillars and stone statues of Mother Maria, Jesus Christ, the Christian Cross embedded in the ground like Excalibur, the remains of a covent creating a haunting color of grey, the atmosphere eerie and quiet. The estate belonged to her adoptive guardian, Tristan Sinclair- who was probably the richest in the area they were living in. Although it was called fondly a manor by the aristocrats, it had always been a joke between Kym and her that it was actually a _un vieux château_ \- an old castle. 

_The footsteps were still present._

Lauren turned around slowly when she heard a small knock on her door. She whispers in response,

"Who's there?"

"It's me," responded a hoarse voice, small pale hands opening the door.

It was Kym Ladell-Sinclair, her biological cousin and adoptive sister.

"… do you hear them too?"

Lauren nodded grimly pulling her into a tight hug, feeling Kym’s warmth, tucking her into the blanket that she had grabbed from the bedside. 

"The dogs, they were howling… what time do you think it is?"

Lauren flitted her eyes outside.

"Perhaps around 4 in the morning…"

  
  


“You were awake?” 

  
  


“Why else would I know the time?” 

The girls share a hushed laugh, both aware of Lauren’s _terrible_ or _un-lady-like_ habits that had them constantly laughing when the tutor comes over to scold them until they heard another set of footsteps. Kym worriedly glances at her, brown warm eyes gazing at the bell to call the servants on the 4th floor. She mutters under her breath,

"I do hope the sun would rise soon… I hear them again, they're in the guest-chamber…"

The two ladies listen to the footsteps that echo underneath them.

_Patter, patter, patter…_

It was faint, but still present- the servants on the fourth floor were too far away to hear for it was 2 floors away, but Uncle Tristan and his assistant Gregory McTrevor were sleeping in the guest bedroom working, they surely, would have heard the footsteps unless…

They visibly paled.

_Unless they were assaulted or even kille-_

_No, now was not the time to think about this._

"Should we ring the bell?"

  
  


Kym asked, hand ready to pull the rope. Lauren responded, eyes still alert. 

"No, whoever is down there might come up if we do, and who knows what will happen to us…"

Kym fought back the urge to vomit, and instantly regrets the late-night watermelon snack that she had a few hours ago.

_Tristan… McTrevor… what could have possibly happened to them?_

  
  
  


Snaking out of Lauren's arms, Kym walks toward the windows with hurried footsteps and gasps.

_Patter, patter, patter…_

"Look," Kym gasped, pointing out the window.

"What are they carrying?"

  
  


Lauren blinked. 

“What do you mean, _what are they carrying_?” 

Grabbing her lamp, she also walks over to the window, and then, sees _them_. 

  
  


***- ~ - ***

  
  


They were running through the garden, feet stumbling across the grass as they carry what appears to be a painting covered in cloth, the size of nearly half of their body. He wore a hat, a blue one, and his brown coat covered most of his face, as he rushed to the back gate, the painting-ish object being dragged along the ground. 

“ _Shit_.” 

  
  
  


“Lauren, you’re not supposed to swear, it’s unladylike.” 

  
  


“This is special, alright?”   
  


Fisting her nightgown, Lauren rushed to the bell, yanking hard on the rope that connects to the servant chambers. 

_Gong… gong… gong…_

  
  


The sound echoed across the silent manor, like a grandfather clock striking 12, Lauren sighed in relief- now the servants can come down to the second floor…

A scream sounded from below. The two froze and met each other’s gazes, and like reflexes, they both dashed out the door, tripping over their own two feet as they go down the stairs, skirts preventing them from long strides. 

Kym reached the door first and when she burst the door open with such ferocity, she immediately crashed on the ground. Lauren caught her and looked up, only to be met by a blinding white light from a flashlight.

  
  


Although it is strange to admit, Lauren had to say that the man holding the flashlight was beautiful. 

  
  


He had a hollow frame, but it wasn’t hollow at the same time, a mirthful grin on his lips as he continued holding the flashlight to her face. He was tall and lean, wearing a black suit, a mask covering most of his face. 

  
  
  


“Hello, there ladies… I’m sorry, but I must really take my leave… before… ah, there we are.” 

  
  
  


He spoke in a deep voice, gesturing to the door behind them. The hurried footsteps of the servants can be heard from above. 

  
  
  


“Most unfortunate, but I must say have a nice morning… _a bientôt demoiselles._ ”

  
  
  


And he promptly proceeded to exit out the window, which had a ladder attached to it. 

  
  
  
  


***- ~ - ***

After a few seconds of shock, Lauren growled.

  
  


“ _Does that bastard think he can get away from this_?” 

  
  
  


Kym breathed out, trying to block the door from Lauren. 

  
  
  


“No, Lauren, don’t go-”

  
  


Lauren swatted her hand away. 

  
  


“Check on Uncle Tristan and McTrevor. Meet you later.” 

  
  


“No-” 

  
  


By the time Kym tried to stop her completely, Lauren was already outside. 

  
  


She grabbed the gun on the mantlepiece in the hallway, checking if there were any bullets left. 

  
  
  


_2 bullets. More than enough._

  
  


Although Kym was the better shooter, Lauren had confidence in her skills, and she at least was not _terrible_. 

  
  


She rushed outside, meeting Harvey Wood, one of the servant boys, who was already in running after the mysterious figure. 

“Miss Lauren!” 

“Harvey- where is he right now?” 

“He should come out from over there!”

He pointed, gesturing at the statue of Mother Mary. 

“Great. Reverse now, and go wait at the entrance- make sure no one escapes. I’m going after him.” 

“Yes, miss!” 

Lauren nodded briefly and started running, jumping over the rocks, weapon gripped tightly in her hand.

  
  


The figure seemed to have noticed that she was following him, and smiled tauntingly, his footsteps now appearing to be like skipping steps. 

  
  


Lauren let out a frustrated yell. 

  
  


_ She does not deserve to be mocked this way _ . 

  
  


So Lauren Sinclair, being the person she was, on impulse, pulled the trigger. 

  
  
  


The gunshot echoed through the garden, whistling as it traveled to the target. 

  
  
  


And surprisingly, it hit. 

  
  
  


She whooped in triumph, smirking at the figure giving a gasp of shock as he fell to the ground. 

_ Jokes on him.  _

  
  
  


And so she dashed toward the patch where the figure fell to find… 

  
  


***- ~ - ***

Harvey Wood nervously paced as he waited for Lauren to arrive at the entrance. He fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. So far, no one had attempted escaping from the front entrance, nor had been seen from the gate. He sighed. 

  
  


“Gramps, I can do this… I’m doing this all for you…” 

He whispered under his breath as he waited. 

  
  


“Harvey!” 

  
  


Lauren’s voice called out to him, and he shook out from his trance. 

  
  


“Miss! Are you alright?” 

Lauren rolled her eyes, 

  
  


“Of course- like I always am. Did anyone come from here?” 

  
  


“ _ Non, mademoiselle. _ ” 

  
  


“Fuck. I had him right there-  _ hell _ , I shot him.” 

  
  


“This is the only entrance and exit to the manor- the bastard must be in  _ here _ somewhere… say, miss, what’s that?” 

  
  


He asked, pointing at the yellow fabric in her hands. 

  
  


She sighed in frustration. 

  
  


“ _ This _ ,” 

  
  


She replied, waving it in the air, 

  
  
  


“Was the only thing left at where I shot him.” 

  
  
  


It was a yellow hat, usually worn by car drivers. 

“I asked a few people around the area since they heard the gunshot, but they said they didn’t see anyone suspicious. ” 

  
  


“I see. Thank you-”

  
  


“Lauren! Harvey!” 

  
  


They turned around their heads to meet with Kym. 

  
  


“Kym! Are you alright?” 

  
  


Kym bit her lip. 

  
  


“I am… but McTrevor and Tristan aren’t.” 

  
  


Lauren worriedly glanced at the manor, now basking in the light of the sun rising. 

  
  


“What happened?” 

  
  


“Tristan and McTrevor were found on the ground of the guest bedroom.” 

  
  


“How’s Uncle?” 

  
  


“He’s fine. Concussion and a few bruises and scrapes here and there.” 

  
  


“And McTrevor?”

  
  


Kym looked away. 

  
  


“Well… you see… he’s dead.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> No worries, our dear William Hawkes will come out in the next chapter, I promise 💗

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking a look at _tragedies of humanity (and morality)_! 
> 
> This fanfiction is based on Arsene Lupin (go read, it's _amazing_ )- just imagine Hadzy sitting in front of a notebook, plotting everything out lmao.
> 
> I will be distributing time machines in the comments, if anyone wants one.
> 
> **Do not think that this is historically accurate (or accurate at all for that matter)** , for it is only based on little research about real-life applications. 
> 
> And lastly, kudos, comments, and shares are appreciated! 
> 
> Hadzy ❤


End file.
